


Til the End of the Line

by bandersnatch72



Series: Winter's Warmth, Summer's Glow [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 17:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandersnatch72/pseuds/bandersnatch72
Summary: When Sophie gets hired at Stark Industries, it never occurred to her what that would actually mean.





	Til the End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you've read Not Just an Exhibit, it's kind of like that, but I wanted a Steve story too.
> 
> I do not own any characters/settings/ideas created by Stan Lee and Marvel.  
I own Sophie Claire Donovan and original characters connected to her.  
(Sophie's POV)
> 
> Tell me what you think!!

The day I started working for Tony Stark, I had no idea of what I was getting myself into. I didn’t realize it would mean meeting the rest of the Avengers, I’m not sure why though. I mean, working for Mr. Stark, in Stark Tower; I’m not sure how I thought I’d avoid meeting the other Avengers, the thought never crossed my mind. 

I’d been working for Mr. Stark for about a week when he told me he was having a party. Nothing big, just a little get-together with friends. Maybe I didn’t realize how many friends Mr. Stark has. I asked him a couple times for details about this upcoming party, since I’m his personal assistant, and he just kept brushing me off. He’d tell me it’d all come together. Not to worry about it.

I can’t not worry about things, I’m not wired that way. So I’m stressed. The party is this Friday. As far as I know, I’m not planning it. Mr. Stark is. What he needs me for, I’m not sure. But hopefully I’ll get the night off, a quiet Friday night. As quiet as it gets in Hell’s Kitchen anyway. People keep telling me you get used to it.

Thursday morning, I drag myself out of bed. Into the shower, grab a cup of coffee, and stare at my closet. I grab slacks and a soft button down before sitting down to do my makeup something easy, natural. I grab the studded Teddy Blake tote I found at a flea market and start loading. I need my planner, my wallet, my lunch (I’m trying this bento box thing), my current read, and the papers Mr. Stark needed. I add a pair of flats and a granola bar and go to find my car keys. I’m running a bit late though, it’d probably be faster to take the subway. I don’t want to be sitting in traffic for half an hour.

I get to Stark Tower, speed walking through the front doors. I walk past _ Vanessa_, the bottle blonde who sits at reception and decided from day one that she hates me. I don’t know what I did to her, really. I feel the heat of her glare as I wait for the elevator. But I don’t have time to deal with her today, I’m already ten minutes late. And as much as I know Mr. Stark doesn’t care if I’m late, I’d rather not make it fifteen.

I reach the 71st floor without stopping, and slide over to hide behind my desk. People are milling around, some I recognize and others I don’t. Some I recognize from news footage, I know they must be Avengers. One is a woman with long brown hair, dressed all in black. I think her name is Scarlet something? Another is a tall blonde man in a blue shirt and leather jacket, him I’d recognize anywhere. I definitely had a poster of him in my room growing up, that’s Captain Steve Rogers, otherwise known as _ Captain America. _

I try not to gasp when I see him come through the door. I look for something to do, something to grab. I end up knocking over yesterday’s half empty coffee cup, sending the paper cup flying and sending a spray of cold black and white mocha everywhere. Captain Rogers catches the cup, but can’t save himself from being drenched. I’m mortified. I gasp and hurry to apologize. He smiles though, a gentle smile telling me I’m not in trouble. 

“I believe this is yours?” He offers me the cup with a small laugh.

“Oh, my gosh. I’m… so sorry Captain. I… I can- Can I get you new clothes? I’m sure Mr. Stark would allow it.” I’m flustered, I’m probably red from my hairline down to my chest. 

“Mr. Stark…” He seems to be testing the words, almost tasting them. He laughs again. How can someone be in this good of a mood after getting coffee spilled all over them? 

“It’s okay, Miss…” He’s waiting for my name.

“Donovan. Sophie Donovan. But it’s not okay. I just spilled cold coffee all over you. But you’re laughing.” I hear the hysterical edge to my voice. I haven’t worked here long enough to have a panic attack at my desk, especially in front of _ Captain America. _

Captain Rogers glances behind him toward Mr. Stark’s offices before speaking, seemingly to the ceiling.

“Friday, tell Tony that Miss _ Donovan _will be accompanying me to go get some dry clothes. There’s no need to tell him what happened.”

“Certainly, Captain Rogers. Should I also inform Mr. Stark of Miss Donovan’s tardiness?”

I interject. “That’s not necessary, Friday. _ Really.” _I give Captain Rogers a pleading look.

“Miss Donovan, after you.” He makes a sweeping motion, gesturing to the elevator. I duck my head and lead the way. He presses the button for the 70th floor. It’s only one floor below us, but I have no idea where the stairs are, I‘m not if there are any. It only takes a moment before the doors open on a long hallway. 

Captain Rogers leads me to a door not far from the elevator, 7006. The door clicks open as he nears, Friday’s doing. I don’t know what I was expecting this morning, or even five minutes ago, but it wasn’t to be standing in Captain Rogers’ apartment on the day I met him. 

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee?” Another smile. I nod, shy in his presence, in his apartment. He leads me to a small kitchen where a Keurig sits. He hands me a mug and tells me to choose whichever coffee I want. I choose a Caramel Macchiato and awkwardly lean against the counter while it brews. 

Captain Rogers stands in a doorway, presumably to his bedroom. I’m once again reminding that this is not how I pictured my morning. I’m standing in Captain Rogers’ kitchen, drinking Captain Rogers’ coffee out of Captain Rogers’ mug; watching Captain Rogers’ pick a clean shirt because I spilled coffee on him. 

He walks out of his bedroom, finishing buttoning a light blue dress shirt. It’s tight enough to show the muscles in his arms and chest, but loose enough for the buttons to lay flat. He rolls the sleeves before looking up and giving me a small smile. 

“Coffee good?” I nod. “I’m still not sure how to get that thing going properly.” He gives me a sad look. “A gift from Tony.”

“Oh, yeah. So you um…” He comes and stands behind me, watching me work the Keurig. “You pick the pod you want,” I feel him nod, “and you put it here, push the ounce-age you want, and…” I demonstrate, the machine begins whirring, “look, coffee!” I blush, that sounded so dumb. I can feel him standing behind me, his chest just touching my back. 

He reaches around me to take the cup, the pressure on my back disappears. I turn to see him leaning on the counter behind him, savoring the coffee I’ve just made. “Thanks. I can’t imagine spending as much money as I have been at coffee stands. This is great by the way.” He smiles over his cup.

When we finish our coffee, Captain Rogers places the mugs in the sink to be washed.

“We should probably head back, before Tony starts wondering if I’ve kidnapped you.” A small laugh and we’re headed out the door toward the elevator. 

We reach the floor above us unscathed. Mr. Stark is sitting on my desk, playing with a paperweight; tossing it back and forth from hand to hand. Is he pouting? 

“Hi Mr. Stark. Did you need something? I’m sorry helping Captain Rogers took so long.” He looks up, setting the paperweight back on my desk.

“Nope, I was just lonely. Pepper left, and Friday’s ignoring me. And then I hear _ Captain Rogers _ stole you for something. I got bored.” He looks over at Captain Rogers, who’s standing calmly with his hands behind his back. “You’re letting her call you _ Captain Rogers _ ?” he laughs and looks back at me. “ _ Tony, _please, Sophie.” 

“I dunno, I kinda like it. It’s nice compared to some of the things _ you’ve _ called me.” He leans forward, looking at me. “You _ can _ call me Steve though, Miss Donovan. If you’ll allow _ me _to call you Sophie.”

A slight blush colors my cheeks. My name sounds different on his tongue than on _ Tony’s. _ It might take me a bit to remember Tony. And _ Steve. _

“Okay, that’s enough flirting, Capsicle.” Did Capt- Steve just blush? “Back to work, Sophie. And no more spilling coffee on superheroes, okay?” I blush again. Darn you Friday.


End file.
